


The Dream of Love Is a Two Hearted Dream

by ladyannabethstark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, F/M, Sexual Content, atonement au, but much happier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyannabethstark/pseuds/ladyannabethstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa is determined to ignore her feelings for Jon Snow, a family friend, until he mistakenly gives her a letter that describes his own thoughts rather explicitly. When she gives him a chance to explain, they find that they cannot resist each other for a moment longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dream of Love Is a Two Hearted Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is an atonement!au prompt given to me by maddylonglegs on tumblr. She wanted a happier version of it and I was glad to oblige.
> 
> The title is from the song Sleep Alone by Bat for Lashes.

Sansa couldn’t put into words why she so desperately wanted Robb to rescind the invitation. Jon was always invited to their dinners but now it was different. She couldn’t explain to herself so the thought of making Robb understand was useless. So she decided to ignore Jon as she had been trying to do since her return from university. He would do the same, always taking his cues from her. Until that afternoon. Sansa flushed as she thought of the fountain and how she had so shamelessly shed her dress in front of him. It was for a good cause. That vase was valuable to her mother, one of the only things that Catelyn had brought to the North when she married Ned Stark. Sansa loved it just as much, desperate to save every piece so that it could be fixed somehow. But then she surfaced and Jon’s eyes took in her drenched form with the desperation of a dying man. The hunger in his eyes awoke feelings that Sansa did not dare to name. As she descended the stairs in her gown of green silk, diamond pins in her hair and lavender oil on her wrists and throat, she felt that she could get through the night.

It did not matter what Jon Snow did. She could handle it all like a mature young woman. Of course, her resolve was tested as soon as she heard a knock on the door. With the butler nowhere to be seen, Sansa answered it dutifully. Her eyes widened when she saw Jon standing at the threshold. Despite the spotless and clean appearance of his tuxedo, Jon’s dark hair was as unruly as ever. She would have berated him for it if she were not certain that Robb’s hair would look the same. Besides, she did not think that she would like his hair to be cut short and slicked back.

“Everyone is in the sitting room, I imagine,” Sansa said in a calm, aloof voice, moving aside to allow him in.

He nodded, stepping inside before reaching out to shut the door himself.

“How are you this evening?” Jon asked politely.

“Fine,” she said shortly.

Sansa turned to walk away, steadying her shaking hands.

“Wait,” Jon said, catching her arm.

She looked back at him with wide eyes.

“I have something for you.”

Despite her determination, Sansa was too curious to refuse whatever he had. She nodded her head quickly, folding her hands in front of her as she waited for him to give her whatever it was. Jon swallowed hard, looking nervous before he drew an envelope from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. He held it out to her as her brow furrowed ever so slightly. Sansa took it, holding it gingerly in both of her hands.

“Don’t,” Jon stopped her as she began opening it.

Sansa raised her eyebrow at him.

“Wait until I am not near, please,” he requested.

She nodded her head more graciously this time, willing to accept this for his sake. Jon gave her a grateful look, bowing his head before walking past her. Sansa watched as he went, listening for Arya’s shout of pleasure when Jon entered the sitting room. Once the door was shut, she went about opening the envelope once more. Sansa pulled a folded letter out, thinking that she might know what would be written there. Jon was never good with speaking his words but he had always been more talented at writing them. She remembered reading his short stories when they were younger, finding herself fascinated with the images that he could conjure in her mind. She unfolded the letter and read it over quickly. A flush bloomed on her cheeks as she read of his love for her and how he felt strange when she was near. By the time she reached the end, the thin paper was hanging loose in her hands. Sansa stepped backwards, heat running through her that she had no hope of blaming on the weather. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth as Jon’s words pulled new and forbidden images to the forefront of her mind.

_In my dreams I kiss your cunt._

Sansa shuddered, imagining her unclothed body spread on her bed, her thighs parted with Jon’s head between them, his lips at her most intimate of places. Her hand shot out, gripping the table nearest to her.

_Your sweet, wet cunt._

She heard a door open and automatically crumpled the letter in her hand. It should not have surprised her when Jon hurried back into the foyer. Sansa turned to look at him, her heart pounding in her chest as he looked from her face to the letter in her fist.

“It was a mistake,” he said in a breathless voice.

She nodded, unable to find the words to reply to him.

“I’m so sorry,” Jon said, stepping towards her. “It was the wrong version. I wrote an apology but…”

“Yes,” Sansa replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

She could imagine what happened, the panic he felt when he discovered that he gave her the wrong letter while he stood in the company of her family.

“No one was ever meant to…”

“No,” she interrupted him, pressing her lips together.

They remained in silence for several moments before Sansa found the ability to move once more. She walked briskly towards the library, knowing that he would follow her. She pushed the door open and stepped into the dark room, taking a deep breath before turning on the lamp on the desk. Jon closed the door quietly and by the time she turned around, he was mere feet away from her. Sansa truly did not know whether to laugh or to cry. She was supposed to ignore him and he was supposed to follow her example. It was not supposed to be like this. He had a pull to him, something that drew her in like a moth to a flame. Judging by the heat in his cheeks and the slight parting of his lips, as well as the words that he wrote, Jon was not entirely unaffected either.

“This morning by the fountain…” she trailed off, trying to find the words.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly.

Sansa shook her head, holding her hand up. It was her turn to talk. He had certainly said enough in the letter.

“I was so angry with you but even more angry with myself. I have never done anything like that before,” she admitted, looking anywhere but into his eyes. “Robb told me of your plans to go North. I thought if you went to the Wall, I’d be happy, relieved.”

She finally lifted her eyes, staring into his dark gaze.

“I don’t know how I could have been so ignorant about myself,” Sansa whispered.

Tears stung her eyes as he stepped closer to her. She moved backwards, knowing that if he got too close that the heat burning within her would explode into flames and she would not be able to resist.

“You do know what I’m talking about, don’t you? You knew before I did.”

Her back hit a bookshelf just as Jon reached out, brushing a tear away with his thumb.

“Why are you crying?” he said, his voice strangled.

Sansa felt a lump forming in her throat as she clutched at the shelves behind her.

“Don’t you know why?” she said quietly.

“Yes,” Jon murmured, curling his fingers into her hair. “I know why.”

He drew her to him slowly and she did not resist, unable to keep herself away from the heat of his body. Once their faces were only inches apart, Sansa stroked her fingers through his hair and a flicker of a smile formed on his face. Jon leaned forward, kissing her briefly and chastely before pulling away. He looked at her, waiting to see whether or not she was all right. Sansa hesitated for just a moment before tugging him close again. This time, the kiss was not as gentle. They poured their passion and desperate desire into the touch of their lips. Just as Jon pushed her against the bookshelf, Sansa shoved his jacket off of his shoulders. It barely dropped to the ground before she was tearing at his shirt. Jon helped her, undoing the buttons quickly.

Jon buried his face between her breasts, dragging the thin straps of her dress down her arms as his lips trailed over her heated skin. Sansa pulled at his waistband desperately, only wanting him as close as he could be, joined with her in the most intimate of ways. She yanked at his hair, kissing him deeply before biting at his lip as he gasped and moaned softly into her mouth. Jon pushed her dress up her legs and hooked his fingers in her underwear, dragging the thin fabric down. Once her underthings had fallen to the floor, he lifted her leg and braced it on a shelf, his hand trailing up her thigh softly. Sansa shuddered and let her head fall back as he parted her folds and stroked her with his fingers. A soft cry escaped from her lips at the feeling. Jon muffled the sounds with another kiss, his thumb pressing to a sensitive spot before rubbing at it. She gasped and whimpered as he teased her, sliding one, then two fingers into her heat before pumping them in and out slowly. Sansa knew that she should have been embarrassed at the wetness between her thighs but she only burned hotter for him.

“Now,” she whispered against his lips, moving her hips against his hand. “I want you now.”

He did not deny her, pulling his hand away before taking himself in hand. Sansa linked her hand around his neck as he pressed into her, biting down on her lip hard. Jon stopped moving once he was seated deep within her, kissing away the tears in her eyes at the stinging pain. Sansa turned to look into his eyes, feeling overwhelmed and desperate for more all at once.

“Jon,” she said, a hitch in her voice.

He stared deep into her eyes, the tenderness and care in his gaze bringing more tears to her eyes.

“Sansa,” Jon breathed as if her name was the answer to everything.

She fought the urge to bury her face in his shoulder, the weight of her words swelling within her before she even spoke them.

“I love you.”

Jon looked at her with disbelief for a moment as if he could hardly bring himself to believe her. He stroked his fingers over her cheek softly, needing to confirm that she was real.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

Sansa gasped as he started moving, driving into her with slow, deep thrusts. The pain gradually gave way to pleasure and she found herself moving with him, rolling her hips and clutching at his shoulders tightly. They kissed each other constantly, muffling the sounds of lovemaking so that they would not be discovered. When Jon reached between them and began rubbing at the same sensitive spot, Sansa felt heat coiling in her lower belly.

“Something is…something is happening,” she choked out, her entire body trembling as if anticipating whatever it was.

“Shh, just let it happen,” Jon urged her, moving quicker now.

She squeezed her eyes shut, tugging on his long hair as he kissed and nibbled at her throat. As the heat built within her, Sansa felt like she was teetering on the edge of something wonderful. Just as she thought this, Jon pressed his thumb to the small nub just as he nipped at her earlobe. She cried out before his lips cut off the rest of her moans and whimpers. Her release rolled over her in waves, making her writhe and shake in his arms. Jon’s pace grew feverish, making him groan out her name before he pulled out abruptly. Sansa felt as though she lost something, breathing heavily as he buried his face in her neck. They stayed there for several moments, both recovering before Jon pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean them up. Sansa was shaky on her feet when he let her down, pulling her shoes back on where they had fallen off during their lovemaking. Once their attire was fixed, she arranged his hair with shaking hands before doing the same with her own.

“They will be expecting us,” she said in a hushed voice, smoothing out her dress.

Jon pulled her in, careless of her words as he kissed her deeply.

“I wish to ask your father for your hand,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her jaw.

Sansa thought that she might cry of happiness.

“He will happily agree and as will I,” she said, certainty in her voice.

She could feel Jon’s grin against her lips when he kissed her once more.

“I sincerely hope so,” he admitted before drawing away.

Before he could pull her out of the library, Sansa stopped and picked up the crumpled paper from the desk.

“You go. I shall lock this away in my room first,” she decided, smoothing out the wrinkles.

Jon grinned at her, kissing her once more before gesturing for her to leave first. Once she made it to her bedroom, Sansa made sure to lock the letter away in one of her drawers, slipping the key onto a chain to wear around her neck. She slipped it beneath her dress, smiling widely as she looked in the mirror. Once she hurried downstairs, Sansa entered with a smooth, blank expression. Jon was with Robb and Theon at the hearth, already smoking with them.

“It’s about time,” Arya muttered impatiently.

Sansa simply rolled her eyes, taking a seat next to her mother.

“Are you all right, darling?” Catelyn asked, frowning at her. “You look a bit flushed.”

She brushed her concern off.

“It is only the heat, Mother,” Sansa said, speaking the first excuse that formed in her mind. “It affects me so.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see Jon smiling slightly. As Catelyn turned her attention to Arya, who was complaining about her hunger, Sansa could not help but smile as well. She casted her eyes towards Jon briefly, noticing that the same happiness stirring within her was also shining in his eyes. Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think!


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